


The Odds Will Betray You

by Meddalarksen, victoriousscarf



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber
Genre: Alternate Canon, Canon Compliant, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-13
Updated: 2012-11-03
Packaged: 2017-11-12 02:19:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/485606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meddalarksen/pseuds/Meddalarksen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/victoriousscarf/pseuds/victoriousscarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the magics were settling on the world, a demonic force was bound into one of the tribes, onto a certain magic. Since then, the Mistoffelees has been trying everything to get back out, using its host to attempt to retake the entire world and remake it in the Magics' image. </p><p>It just wasn't counting on the persistent stubbornness of it's current host or the fact that not only was another tribe closing in, but the gods themselves were reconsidering their earlier decisions.</p><p>The Jellicles, meanwhile, only find out the Magic is in their midst when it is revealed during the most important night, the Jellicle Ball.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Maybe Next Year

Looking back, it hardly seemed like there could have been a more inconspicuous day.

After all, Quaxo would often take time to spend with one of the few friends he actually had in the tribe. This day was sunny, and the small tuxedo tom was curled up in a patch of sunlight, resting while waiting for the other to show up. And show up the other did, with his usual dramatic entrance, bouncing over the back of the couch Quaxo was curled up around and landing next to the dozing cat, who jerked awake.

“Tugger,” Quaxo said, drowsily. “Hey.”

“What are you doing sleeping?” Tugger demanded, the maine coon fluffing out his mane as he looked the smaller cat over. “It’s a beautiful day, full of adventure and possibilities! And you want to be sleeping?”

“Not want,” Quaxo murmured, sitting up enough to stretch his spine out. “I was waiting. You’re always late and I figured I might as well do something useful with the time.” Like catch up on missed hours of sleep the night before. The Mistoffelees had been particularly loud last night, going through every mistake he’d made through the day, especially when he was practicing dancing. But there was certainly no reason to bring something like that up with Tugger. Not on such a beautiful sunny day with his magic—or demon rather—being quiet after the barrage of last night.

Tugger rolled his eyes. “Sure, whatever you say.” He rose from the crouched position he had been in and held out a paw to drag Quaxo up with. “What do you say to going out and creating some havoc?”

“Havoc, maybe not so much, but going out, certainly,” Quaxo replied, accepting the paw and rising, stretching himself out again.

They walked side by side through the junkyard for a while, Tugger chattering on about anything that came to his mind while looking for something to entertain him, and Quaxo following along, nodding in the right places and inserting his own comments when he could. Eventually Tugger turned to him, and with all seriousness asked, “Why aren’t you doing some of your magic at the ball?”

Quaxo almost stumbled and came to a complete stop, the Mistoffelees stirring in the back of his mind and purring slightly at the idea. /Yes, why don’t you?/ it asked, voice low and content with the idea.

Turning, Tugger frowned a little at the fact the smaller cat had stopped. “Hey, something wrong?” Quaxo shook his head and started forward again. “I mean,” Tugger continued, “Just some of your tricks and the like. Not those incantations you do every once and a while, but just your tricks. You’re so good at them and they might be something interesting to do, you know?”

Making a “mmm,” sound, Quaxo looked around. “Maybe,” he said after a few more moments. “I don’t think so though.”

Tugger shoved his shoulder lightly with his own, grinning. “Oh come on. You’re so good at it! I’m sure they’d appreciate it as much as I like watching you.”

“Maybe,” Quaxo said again, softly.

Tugger rolled his eyes. “You’re not going to go into one of your mopey ‘but I’m not good enough’ moods are you?”

That startled a laugh out of Quaxo, who shook his head. “No, no mopey moods. Promise.”

Scrambling up on some junk, Tugger turned and plopped himself down, watching the smaller tom. “Good. If you did perform though, think you would use a stage name?”

Arching a brow, Quaxo spread his arms around, and smiled up at the other tom. “Sure. Most of the great magicians do after all.”

“What’d you use?” Tugger asked, crossing his legs and propping his chin up in one paw.

Quaxo shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know…” he crossing his arms, considering it. “Mistoffelees,” he said after a moment. He couldn’t help but grin slightly as he felt the magic stir in his mind, going in a circle, questioning and a little annoyed at his audacity.

Tugger looked at him for a moment and grinned. “Mistoffelees? That’s quite the mouthful to have come up with. Where’d you think that up?”

“Found it in a book,” Quaxo replied smoothly. “The Magical Mr.”

“The Magical Mr. Mistoffelees?” Tugger asked with a laugh and small shake of his head. “Such a big name for such a small cat. I like it. Very magical.”

Quaxo continued to grin even as something slimy slithered at the back of his mind, cursing him under its breath. “Glad you approve,” he said, leaning against something before he wavered. But under the bright sunlight, with a friend, it was hard for the Mistoffelees to protest too much. He paused a moment. “I’m still not performing at the ball though,” he told Tugger, who shrugged.

“Up to you, of course,” the larger replied. “Maybe next year?”

Quaxo nodded. “Sure, maybe next year.”


	2. It's the Rules of Magic, Kit

At first the Jellicle Ball went off without a hitch, as it tended to. But, as it also tended to, a hitch eventually appeared, this year in the form of one Rum Tum Tugger, a very curious cat, crashing his brother's ode to Jennyanydots.

Flouncing into the clearing, he proceeded to amaze all the kittens, knock Tumble to the ground and step over him, be informed he was a terrible bore by Quaxo, and dropped Bombalurina to the ground as well.

Perched on the tire, viewing the debacle that the ball was descending toward rapidly, Munkustrap pinched the bridge of his nose, simply nodding when Skimbleshanks moved over to speak to him.  Blue eyes narrowing dangerously, the tribe protector watched his younger brother's treatment of the other cats, nearly growling under his breath at the interactions between Tugger and Bombalurina.

Quaxo appeared at his elbow from where he'd just had a ball kicked at his head. "He means no harm you know," he said, sitting primly, tail coming around his paws and looking over.

Munkustrap spared him a glance before his gaze moved back toward the center of the clearing, "Intended or not he's still causing it."

The small tuxedo shrugged. "Maybe. Most people find him charming and I promise Bomba's not going to care in another minute or two." Already she was at the edge of the clearing, leaning against Alonzo who looked surprised but washed her ear for her anyway.

Eyes following the red queen, Munkustrap sighed, "I know.  There are just days I wish he'd grow up a bit.  Or settle down, or something."

"He'll never grow up," Quaxo laughed, following Munkustrap's gaze. "I mean..."

The protector glanced at him again, "You mean?"

"I mean, he could grow up," Quaxo said, washing his whiskers with one paw, shrugging his shoulder slightly. "If he ever wanted to. Which he doesn't."

 Munkustrap absently ran a paw over his ear, and carefully smoothed the fur around it, "But does he have to flaunt it so much?"

"He's a very curious cat," Quaxo deadpanned back as suddenly the tribe fell silent.

Munkustrap moved swiftly off of the tire, immediately on alert, his eyes scanning the clearing for the disruption.  He froze momentarily when he spotted the elderly queen who had just appeared.

"Munkus?" Quaxo asked quietly.

The protector drew a steadying breath and shook his head, crossing to the queen smoothly, stopping Etcetera from getting too close as Skimble drew another kit away as well.  The silver tabby's lip drew back very slightly, his back arching though the response didn't touch his eyes.

Electra looked up at him, rubbing against his side in a smoothing manner before moving back near Skimble.

The touch startled him slightly, but he turned, catching Demeter and cutting her off from the elderly queen before they could touch, his expression still wary as he turned the golden queen toward Bombalurina.  He turned his eyes back to the mange-ridden queen, his gaze locking with matching blue, "You're not welcome here, Grizabella.  You've not been for many a long year."

The response he received was not what he'd been expecting, but an admonishment that made his hackles rise.  A warning to make certain to pay attention to the broken cat before him.  The silver tabby slunk along in the queen's wake until she finally left the clearing.  A large part of him wanted to follow her, but he couldn't risk being absent for any amount of time on that night of all nights.

"Munkus," Quaxo repeated, moving toward him when suddenly another commotion went off, Bombalurina, Jennyanydots, and Jellylorum saying something about the cat about town and Quaxo's ears went flat.

Munkustrap whirled toward the commotion, his gaze darting toward Quaxo and putting a smile on his face, tracing a paw around the other's ear briefly, "You can do it.  It's his yearly appearance and then he'll be gone."

The smaller tuxedo pause and nodded, forcefully pushing his ears back up. "And I look fine?" he asked, sounding rather uncertain.

/Pathetic/ a drowsy voice informed him, the magic not paying much attention to the ball, the light of the full, Jellicle moon quieting it. But it always reacted to its host's pain or distress, Jellicle moon or no.

Munkustrap instinctively groomed a couple of points on Quaxo's head and chest, "There, you look perfect."

Quaxo offered him a tiny smile, the tip of his tail twitching as Tugger ran into his back in support before retreating as far away from Bustopher Jones as he could get.

Pouncival scurried past as Munkustrap moved away to locate Skimble and hope that they could find something for Jones to sit on. The acrobat paused, glancing at Quaxo, "Can I retreat with Tugger?"

"No," Quaxo replied quickly, frowning at him, tail lashing.

Pouncival's nose wrinkled, "So I gotta line up with the others?"

“Yes," Quaxo replied just as curtly.

"Hey, Quaxo?  Breathe," his friend murmured, heading toward the other toms.

Snarling in annoyance, Quaxo hit him upside the head with one paw. "Right," he said, ears going flat again

Pounce yelped, growling as his foster brother also knocked against his back.  Tumble stepped past Pounce, touching Quaxo's ear slightly, brushing a paw over the fur that had risen around it again.  He didn't say anything, simply dragging Pouncival with him toward the others.

Sighing, Quaxo forced his ears up and forced a smile, preparing for the interview, where he wold follow his uncle around, making sure nothing was going to go wrong.

Munkustrap and Skimbleshanks had managed to get the toms of the tribe, the ones who were present at least as Tugger had vanished somewhere, into a line and standing to what would pass as attention.  The performance for Bustopher at least was a short one, even if it was an annual one.

Everyone sagged a little when Jones passed them by, except for Pouncival who instead fell over, Quaxo wincing. Pounce offered his friend an apologetic smile, getting to his knees as Bustopher's appearance finally started to come to a close.  Skimble, in line next to his son, offered the younger tom a paw up which the acrobat took with another sheepish smile.

Just as Jones looked like he was preparing to leave, Demeter panicked and the tribe scattered from the clearing.

Munkustrap watched the assembled cats bolt, nodding for his second-in-command to take a short circuit to the east of the clearing while he slipped out the west side.  Neither patrol took very long and Munkustrap met Alonzo on the edge of the main clearing, frowning at the sight of Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer in the midst of an acrobatics routine for apparently no one’s benefit but their own.

"Oh, Bast," Alonzo sighed. "It was just them, wasn't it?"

The protector crossed his arms, nodding, "As loathe as I am to say that.  Demeter's usually better about not spooking the entire tribe over nothing."

"Well, it's Macavity," Alonzo sighed. "You know his magic freaks her out. Maybe he was lurking in the area?"

The silver tabby's ears twitched, but he nodded again, "Perhaps.  Let's go see what those two tucked in their sacks of loot and get this ball back on track before Old Deuteronomy shows up." Alonzo rolled his eyes, advancing quickly behind Jerrie.

The two tortoiseshell tabbies cart wheeled across the clearing, setting themselves to rights only to be confronted by the returning members of the tribe, they turned to bolt and nearly ran into Munkustrap and Alonzo.  Jerrie's green eyes widened, his gaze darting from Alonzo's face to the sack the patched tom held.

Alonzo sighed again before tossing it over the heap of junk that made the clearing. "Next time? Don't scare off the whole tribe. They tend not to like that."

The torbie offered him a shaky grin, ignoring the scowl Teazer was offering in the direction of the lost sack, "Yeah, we'll keep that in mind."

"Especially when it comes to Macavity," Alonzo added, already paying attention to the next thing.

Freezing momentarily at that, Jerrie nodded managing a "Right" as Teazer dragged him away and up onto the trunk of an old car, muttering about protectors and guards and rules and scaredy cats.

Munkustrap turned away from the car, considering what to call for next, but paused at a murmur from Coricopat and Tantomile.  Old Deuteronomy had arrived.  The silver tabby knew his ears flickered back as the twins confirmed it again.  His gaze swept around the clearing, relieved not to see the older cat yet.

Even Quaxo looked excited, only Electra looking over and leaning against Munkustrap's leg again. Tugger appeared from behind one pile of junk, leaning against it as he watched his older brother.

One paw moving to scratched Electra's ear in acknowledgement, Munkustrap put on a smile, murmuring a request to Quaxo to go and locate the tribe leader to escort him to the clearing.  He drew himself together for another moment, taking comfort in Electra's presence and knowledge before spinning the mythos that surrounded the leader. 

The cat was known by name in rhyme and proverb and for the sake of that year's kits Munkustrap would make certain to recite what he knew--including exactly how old his father was rumored to be.  Nothing negative came from his lips regarding the leader of the tribe, his tone respectful, awe-filled even as his body remained tensed.  Pausing, he turned enough to look back toward his younger brother.

As Quaxo did as requested, Tugger smoothly picked up the song, nodding reassuringly to Munkustrap as Old Deuteronomy entered the clearing. While Munkustrap had been very respectful, he almost sounded sincere.

Munkustrap swallowed hard, but inclined his head to his brother in recognition.  He wanted nothing more at the moment than to retreat and not have to complete the overseeing of the ball, but now that the guest of honor had arrived he could hardly do that.  Moving the tribe along with him to greet the leader and motioning the youngest ones forward to greet Deuteronomy, Munkustrap briefly mused on the fact that it might be a hair cowardly to hide behind the kittens in such a way.  He was a half pace behind them to greet his father though.

Except that the kittens actually wanted to greet the elder, whereas his sons would rather do anything else.

Tugger nodded to Munkustrap again, hanging back and watching rather then moving forward to greet at his father at all. When Deuteronomy settled on the same pile of junk that Tugger stood on, he hoped down but didn't move away, even as he refused to speak to him.

Instead he leaned back, watching Munkustrap attempt to lead the tribe through a story, a tale of peaks and pollicles which Tugger's only contribution too was a rendition on his old bagpipes.

Getting the tribe to do anything remotely productive was, frankly, rather a lot like herding cats and Munkustrap could feel minor panic rising each time something else went wrong before his father.  He hoped his expression when Tugger came out with the bagpipes, twice, more closely resembled irritation than the horror he actually felt.

At the end of the performance, which the protector silently swore he would never touch again, the tribe gathered to hear Deuteronomy speak--though it was more riddle than sense--only to scatter when Demeter startled them with another alert regarding Macavity.  Munkustrap and Deuteronomy were left alone in the central clearing, the younger cat tense and fully on alert as he scanned for the flame-colored tabby.

Except that there was once again no sign of Macavity in the proceedings, and slowly the tribe filtered back in. Alonzo followed on the heels of Jemima and Victoria.

Munkustrap took several steps back, allowing the tribe to respond to the second invitation to the ball as they would.  He soon found himself swept along with the others in the dance that took place every year.  Out of the corner of his eye he could see his father's disapproval, but for once in his life he couldn't bring himself to care.

Every cat from oldest to youngest, except for Deuteronomy himself, was caught in the madness of the Jellicle ball.  The rhyme of the Jellicles moving through them, a line here and a line there well learned from a young age.

As the dance started to change, all the queens pairing off with toms, Quaxo looked around, not sure about this part of the dance, never having figured out what to do. Mungojerrie appeared at his shoulder, a crooked grin on his face, "Y'know th' steps?"

"Of course I do," Quaxo said, giving his friend a relieved smile. "Every cat does, right?"

The torbie laughed, "Should hope so."  He offered a paw, "Shall we then?"

"You sure you don't want to be doing this with Alonzo?" Quaxo teased, glancing to where the patched tom was dancing with Cassandra.

Rolling his eyes, Jerrie shook his head, "Yeah I'm sure."  His green eyes moved toward Munkustrap's second-in-command and his ears flickered, "Sides, I'd like t' keep that secret f' a while longer."

"Who's it still a secret from?" Quaxo asked, laughing into the dance, flowing around Jerrie.

Following through the dance, the larger tom nodded in Alonzo's direction, "Him."

"It's not much of a secret if only one person doesn't know about it," Quaxo pointed out, the magic rolling its eyes in the back of his mind and muttering something sleepily.

"Yeah, well if it's th' one cat who matters, Q, then it might as well be."

"You could use my full name," Quaxo teased. "You did for like all of one day."

Jerrie grinned, "Hate t' break it t' you, Q, but y' name sounds like a dyin' duck."

"Hey!" Quaxo protested, as the dance changed, flowing away from partners into something else. Before they moved too far away, Quaxo leaned in and kissed Jerrie on the cheek, before returning to where Tumble was standing.

Jerrie blinked after him, but shook his head and headed for Teazer.  Tumble glanced at his friend, offering him a bit of a smile, "I see you f-figured out that bit of the dance this year."

"How'd you do?" Quaxo asked, arching a brow at him. "Besides, the steps aren't the problem."

Tumble nodded toward Etcetera, "Ended up dancing with Cettie this year."

"Charming," Quaxo remarked, one ear flickering. "Did she scream at Tugger at all?"

"It's Cettie, what do you think?" Tumblebrutus rolled his eyes.

Quaxo laughed into one paw.

"Think she'll ever grow out of that?" Tumble asked.

"No," Quaxo deadpanned. "I really don't think she ever will. Though hopefully one day she'll scream over something else."

The ball continued until Jellylorum lead out a shaking Gus, sitting him down in front of the tribe, who after the dance had scattered around the clearing, most of them laying down or cuddling as they tried to focus enough to listen to Gus' song.

Pouncival was perched slightly behind Deuteronomy and partially behind Jemima on the tire.  He genuinely was trying to pay attention to the old theater cat, knowing he'd hear it from his parents if he didn't, but he was far too distracted with the way the tip of Jemima's tail was twitching and how close it kept coming to Bombalurina's face.  His attention pretty much entirely moved in that direction after another moment as he gave up on hearing the tales he'd heard over and over since he was very small.

Bombalurina lay stretched out on her back, Alonzo petting her stomach as she watched Jemima's tail. Being Jemima, she was paying complete attention to Gus' story, eyes wide as if she'd never heard it before. Reaching one long paw out, Bomba batted at the tail in question, pulling it toward her, Alonzo burying his face in her shoulder trying not to laugh as Jemi whirled around, eyes wide and offended.

Pounce shifted forward, leaning over the edge of the tire enough to knock his paw against Bomba's arm, murmuring under his breath, "Hey, leggo."

Jerrie, curled up a short distance away next to Teazer, had his gaze focused more solidly on the group by the tire than the former performer.  Teazer elbowed him, hard, when she realized exactly how intently he was watching Alonzo around Bombalurina.

Rolling over while Alonzo kneaded her stomach, Bomba weakly batted at the tail again, Jemima pointedly ignoring her.

Pounce wrinkled his nose at Bomba, batting at her paw again before sitting up and half-hoping his parents hadn't seen him.  A quick glance in Skimbleshanks' direction dashed that hope as his father arched a brow at him and then nodded toward Gus.

Bomba laughed, the sound throaty before purring, and head butting against Alonzo's shoulder as he continued to play with the fur along her stomach. Even Tugger was starting to stare a little.  Jerrie hunched his shoulders a bit further, curling up closer to Teazer and letting her trace the black stripes on his back to calm him down a bit.

The whole lazy group finally perked back up when Skimbleshanks darted into center stage, after Gus was led away.

The orange railway cat always had a pawful of stories from his latest trip on the Northern Mail, and that night was no exception.  Anecdote after anecdote was delivered with a smile and a pride in his work that was rarely matched.  Having raised several kittens with his mate he was also more than willing to involve the youngest of the cats in the song as much as he could to see to it that they didn't lose interest.  The song was just wrapping up when a horrendous crash was heard, the tribe going on immediate alert, but not bolting for the first time all evening.

Except that time it really was Macavity, standing on a pile of junk. He seemed to have been waiting for them to be all calm enough not to bolt, laughing now as his henches swarmed the clearing.

Munkustrap snarled, finding himself facing a couple of henches even as his gaze darted up to where the ginger tabby stood easily visible, yet unreachable.  In the rapidly emerging confusion a handful of the henches cornered Deuteronomy and dragged the leader away.

Macavity laughed in his younger brother's face before disappearing.

Munkustrap whirled away from where Macavity had been standing, snapping out orders for a handful of the toms to spread out and check the perimeter, pausing long enough to make certain that Jennyanydots was already calming the kittens.  Once assured that the clearing would be alright he took off in the direction he had seen his father taken.

As the clearing emptied, Alonzo followed Munkustrap, hearing the queens start to sing, though he couldn't quite place why they were singing about Macavity.

Munkustrap glanced over his shoulder with a frown at the voices in the clearing, "Feed his damned ego why don't you?  It's as good as calling him back."

Alonzo sighed. "Maybe it's calming them down?" he offered and paused, listening. "Oh, well there's Bomba."

The silver tabby's ears tilted in that direction, but he shook off the desire to return to the clearing, "Well, if it keeps them calmed there are worse things."  He paused, looking around the path and reaching the last bend in it, "This is a dead-end.  Or at the very least they wouldn't be able to get Deuteronomy through what exit there is from here."

Sighing again, Alonzo nodded. "Should we head back?"

"We need to regroup.  Perhaps starting from the clearing again will give us a better idea of how to track them," Munkustrap responded, heading back toward the center of the Junkyard.

Alonzo followed, just as Macavity returned to the clearing, disguised for the moment as his father, before throwing the blanket he was using over Demeter's head when she launched herself at him, spinning her around once when she was blind, and laughing.

Munkustrap snarled, glancing toward Alonzo, "See that the rest stay out of his way."  With those words he was off like a shot, slamming into his older brother's side, claws unsheathed.

Whirling, Macavity threw the grey tom, kicking him and twisting his body around, a trained fighter.

Munkustrap righted himself, circling Macavity carefully, looking for any sign of a possible weakness in his defenses. Instead of giving him an opening, Macavity launched himself at Munkustrap, pulling his claws but not really holding back the strength of his hits, pausing in the battle to move a paw over Munkustrap's face, catching his mind.

Throwing a paw up instinctively to knock Macavity's away, Munkustrap shook his head, trying to rid himself of the other's influence, even for just a moment.  There was a breath where he regained his control, catching his brother's arm and yanked, his claws digging in past the larger tom's tangled fur.

Macavity yelped, kicking Munkustrap and finally bringing his own claws out, slashing into Munkustrap's side. Hissing at that, Munkustrap drew back, his blue eyes darting over his brother's form before he threw himself at the other again, aiming for his eyes.

Macavity threw himself backwards, kicking Munkustrap over his head, using his brother's momentum to send him over.

Munkustrap landed hard, his head cracking against the ground, stunning him. His eyes flickered as he focused on retaining at least some consciousness.

The queens flocked to him to make sure he was okay as Alonzo launched himself at Macavity, having made sure Demeter was okay. Wrapping himself around Macavity, his back hitting Macavity's back, he batted at the red tom's head until Macavity threw him off.

Jerrie saw the second-in-command fall and darted forward, intending to check on him, but found himself face to face with Macavity instead. Not really paying attention, Macavity swatted him in the face before leaping atop the same pile of junk, looking over the Jellicles before suddenly cutting the power.

A brief moment later an old flashlight came on, Pouncival having found it lying at the base of one of the junk piles.  He played it around the circle as the tribe assessed their wounds and the fact that they were still very short one leader.

"What're we supposed to do?" Electra asked and a scoffing sound came fromm the top of the pile, the flash light moving to pick out Tugger lounging right where his oldest brother had disappeared moments before. "Please. You just have to talk to the Magical Mr. Mistoffelees."

Munkustrap sat up slowly, blinking in disbelief at his younger brother.  What was he on about now?  Coricopat tensed as the name was uttered and he shot a glance at his sister, his ears tipping back slightly.

Tantomile returned the look, eyes wide as Tugger bounced down from his pile, bending his knees and spreading his arms out as he regaled the tribe with the sorts of tricks this Mistoffelees could do.

Tantomile leaned against her brother's side. "That doesn't sound like the Mistoffelees," she remarked, as behind the junk pile Quaxo had gone deathly still, listening to the song without moving.

The magic in his head laughed itself silly. /He's got it wrong. So, little one, are you going to help or not?/

Coricopat nuzzled against his sister's ear, the better to murmur in it, "I want to know where he even heard the name.  You know the tribe keeps no record of the creature.  At least not where it would be commonly heard."

She nodded. "I want to know who he's calling that."

Finally getting his muscles to unfreeze, Quaxo considered the clearing, taking another deep breath. He knew he could restore the power but Tugger was asking him to use transportation too. /It's simple enough/ the Mistoffelees purred. /I can show you/

Taking a deep breath, Quaxo squared his shoulders, looking back up at the moon before hopping over the pile, grabbing onto a dangling wire for a more grand entrance then he'd ever planned before, fur already scattered with sparkles as he used his position in the air to bring the power flooding back into the lights.

Eyes widening, Coricopat watched the younger tom come riding in, magic pouring off of him, "Everlasting Cat..."

Tantomile's jaw dropped, her tail curling as the multicolored lights flared, before they started dancing, flickering on and off in a pattern. "How... How did we miss that?"

Her brother shook his head, "I-I don't know.  I've never felt anything close to that power.  Have you ever been anywhere near him?"

"During the ball," she replied. "Not... not like this."

Watching lightning flicker from the tips of the other tom's claws, Coricopat drew a sharp breath, "How could we have missed a moon magic that strong?  Do we know his birth moon?"

"No," Tantomile replied, watching Tugger dance around the smaller tuxedo, still singing his praises, and though Quaxo's eyes looked unsure, he was putting on quite the show, living up to Tugger's words.

"We'll need to find that out."  Coricopat's gaze remained locked on the magician, "If it's New Moon we are in serious trouble.  Do you think he'll be able to pull this off?"  He glanced at his sister, "Tugger seems to think so, though I'm not sure that it wouldn't be worse if he is."

"Tugger rarely has faith in people," Tantomile said, eying the way they moved together. "But they know each other well." She glanced around, trying to see if anyone else was unsurprised by the tom's powers, and who appeared the most shocked.

Judging by the expressions of the other cats, most of the tribe hadn't expected anything like what they were witnessing.  Victoria and Munkustrap were the only two who didn't seem to evidence too much surprise: the white queen sitting with her tail curled around her paws as she watched her cousin, and Munkustrap checking over his wounds even as he kept an eye and an ear on the proceedings.

Tantomile hummed, noticing that Tumble and Pounce kept looking at each other, as if checking the see if the other knew about this. Finally, she focused back on the tuxedo as Tugger started looking around for a volunteer for a trick that apparently was to bring their leader back.

Coricopat tensed beside her, if anything went wrong with this it could be disastrous, and quite probably fatal, and the fact that no one seemed to register that had his back up.

Looking around the crowd, Quaxo tensed, not liking the idea of having to trade.

/It's the rules of magic, kit/ the magic sighed. /They shouldn't be harmed, much, in the process/ Quaxo managed not to growl that he wanted no one to be harmed and the Mistoffelees laughed, the second echoing along his skull as Quaxo scanned the cats, many who thought it was a great show and wanted to volunteer. /And this is why you'll never be a great magician. You're too afraid of the costs and the power. Now do the spell!/ it roared and Quaxo's shoulder shook as his eyes met Cassandra's.

Of all of the cats gathered, she seemed the less interested in volunteering, her slim body held at the ready, as if she understood what magic might entitle. He nodded to her and for a moment she looked unsettled before rising, the motion a graceful line.

Touching Tantomile's shoulder gently, the male half of the duo nodded toward Cassandra, "There's the price.  And she knows it too."  He tensed, nearly ready to step forward and call the whole blasted thing off rather than watch this unfold.

For a moment Cassandra and Quaxo just watched each other before he bowed, holding the red sheet out. Nodding, she stepped through it and Quaxo just hoped that nothing would go wrong, the magic curling around his mind, showing him what to do.

The tribe watched in tense silence as the magic was performed and the red sheet finally drawn back to reveal their leader, returned whole and healthy to them.

Quaxo looked relieved, leaning against the leader and grinning when he was greeted with approval, but not looking relieved until Cassandra reappeared, her fur out of place but otherwise unharmed. Taking her paw, he showed her off to the tribe, looking so relieved he could fall over as Tugger whooped.

Munkustrap offered Quazo a smile and a nod of approval as he rose to his feet to greet his father and welcome him back.  The tribe was ecstatic around them, cheers and calls of approval ringing around the clearing.

Hoping that things were winding down for the night, but aware the big event was yet to come, Quaxo curled up next to Jerrie at the edge of the clearing, trying to catch his breath back. Jerrie ran a soothing paw over Quaxo's ears, before gently grooming them, "Y' did good, Q."

 He let out a huffing breath, watching the tribe father around Deutronomy. "Thanks," he said, voice a little shaky, suddenly aware the twins were still watching him.

Continuing the gentle grooming, the torbie let his gaze wander a bit, "Y'alright there?"

"Fine," Quaxo lied, the magic rumbling at the back of his mind, despite the Jellicle moon.

Jerrie didn't quite believe him, but let the lie slide, curling around the smaller tom a bit as Munkustrap explained, again, the purpose of the ball and the fact that it was time for the Jellicle Choice to be made.

The tribe gathered around again as Grizabella returned. This time, Jemima and Victoria were allowed to accept her, and this time Bombalurina took up a position behind Munkustrap.

Munkustrap's entire body had tensed at the old queen's third appearance of the night, his tail thrashing agitatedly, though he gave no further sign, and heeded any instructions given to him by his father, who he stood just behind.  The presence at his back was oddly comforting to the protector as the choice was made and Grizabella was sent to the Heavyside Layer.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, very basically, this chapter goes through the Jellicle Ball in such a way to set up certain characters, relationships, and plot points. Also, hopefully, a bit more explanation of the magic system. 
> 
> However, this ball isn't entirely based on just the film, more so the last two tours your authors went to see. So there are some things pretty foreign to the filmed version. (Though Deuteronomy being verbally abusive to his sons is something from the film, based off a very close and unorthodox reading of their interactions). 
> 
> There will be a longer explanation of the magic further along in the coming chapters. Cheers!


	3. And You've Terrified Him and You're Projecting

Afterwards, the tribe calmed, and Deuteronomy left to return to the Vicarage, giving Munkustrap a long look promising words the next day. Demeter was dragged away by Bombalurina, who wanted to make sure the other was going to get enough sleep as Alonzo did a quick patrol of the area.

Looking around, Quaxo slipped away. His fur was still glittering slightly and he couldn’t calm down enough to even try to sleep, the magic swirling in the back of his mind.

Coricopat stretched, glancing at his sister, “I’m going to go see what I can find out from that magician.”  He started away in the direction Quaxo had gone, his tail already twitching in agitation.

Watching him leave, Tantomile nodded, considering the remaining tribe before jumping up on another junkpile, wrapping her tail around her paws and waiting.

Ears tilting back, Quaxo looked around the junkyard, the magic pausing. /Somecat is following you/ it informed him. /Perhaps it’ll go badly. You probably angered a lot of them, any intelligent ones, with that name/

Turning, he stopped, sitting with his tail curling around his paws, waiting for whoever it was.

The mystic paused a short distance from where he spotted Quaxo, stilling his thrashing tail and making certain his ears were tipped forward, “There you are.  That was quite a performance.”

Quaxo hummed, one ear flickering. “Thanks. Can I help you?”

“Well, I’m not sure.  I certainly hope so.”  He took a couple steps nearer, “I don’t believe I’ve caught your actual name?  Though that is probably my own fault.”

“It probably is,” Quaxo agreed. “How do you know Mistoffelees isn’t my name though?” he asked, tilting his head to one side. The magic rolled its eyes, muttering something darkly about the Jellicle Moon still being in the sky.

“Because names are chosen carefully enough that even at their blindest, cats wouldn’t choose _that_ as their kit’s name.  And honestly?  The Magical Mr. Mistoffelees sounds like a stage name.  My name’s Coricopat, if it helps me gain yours.”

Pausing, Quaxo considered him, the tip of his tail flickering up before settling. “Quaxo, then. What’s so bad about that name?” he asked, still trying to ignore the soft chuckle of the Mistoffelees, reminding him exactly all the reasons the tribe would fear the magic swirling inside the tuxedo tom.

“You don’t know the truth behind that name before you used it?”  Coricopat shook his head, ears twitching, “What’s your birth moon?”

“It was Tugger who said it,” he replied, a shade too quickly. “Besides, what does that matter?”

“Let me ask again: what’s your birth moon?”

One paw coming up to wash his ear, Quaxo frowned at him. “What does it matter what my birth moon is? It’s the Blue moon anyway.” The Mistoffelees just laughed again.

/I am no Blue moon/ it mocked. /You’re lying to an Empath/ Quaxo barely managed not to wince as that information sank in, hoping he was a good of a lair as everycat seemed to treat him.

Coricopat frowned, his ears tilting backward and his grey eyes narrowing at that lie, “Would you like to guess _my_ magic?”

“Empathy,” Quaxo replied. “If your reaction was any indication. I’m still curious as to why it would matter to you.”

“Because if you’re a new moon magician using that name there are concerns that arise.  Which, quite frankly, you should be at least partially aware of.  Where did you find the name?  Because I can only hope Tugger didn’t pull it out of thin air,” Coricopat replied, watching the other tom for even the slightest twitch to indicate a lie.

Quaxo just groomed his whiskers. “I found it in a book. Couldn’t find any information on it, but I thought it sounded interesting. Tugger apparently took to it when I was playing around with words.”

/That’s because so little information on me is in books/ the Mistoffelees purred. /But I’ve told you so much. Did I tell you the time my host was a young queen, back in Europe? When I got out I slaughtered the entire village where she lived. The expression on some of the shocked faces of the children…/

Quaxo didn’t blink, watching Coricopat and trying to ignore the images in his head.

Coricopat arched an eyebrow skeptically, “You spend much time reading?  That’s not common in this tribe.”

“Not exactly the common type,” Quaxo replied, shrugging. “But yes, I do spend a lot of time reading. The books were more supportive then my uncle tended to be.”

“Your… Jones.  I see.  So,” he paused, “are you New Moon?”

Quaxo rolled his shoulders. “Think so. Never really got that pin pointed exactly, but it seems to be the moon that fits my magic the most. Bast knows my parents never had the chance to tell me, and I’m not even sure my uncle knows. But to the best of my knowledge and such, yes.”

“Have you been trained?”  He asked, figuring his sister would probably kill him if he said anything more, but they needed to keep an eye on Quaxo until they could sort all of their suspicions out.

“Just books,” the tuxedo replied.

/And me/ the Mistoffelees murmured, moving around in a circle and settling again. /I’ve taught you more than the books ever could/

The mottled tom looked the magician over before nodding slightly, “I see.  My sister and I may be able to help you to hone it.  If you would like.  The strength of the New Moon really oughtn’t go untrained.”

Quaxo’s eyes widened and the magic stopped moving, listening intently. /Training. Yes, a better trained host/

“Thank you for the offer,” Quaxo replied coldly. “I’ll consider it.”

Coricopat blinked at him, “I…even if all you need is to talk over what you may have read.  Do speak with us.”

The tuxedo nodded firmly, not replying. As Coricopat turned to leave, he called out again. “If you’re so scared of that name, or anything about it, why would you offer to train me? To check up on me or because you actually care?”

Turning, the mystic looked him straight in the eye, “Both.  The stronger you are, the more you surround yourself with others, the less strength it might have.”

“It?” Quaxo asked. “What it?”

/Actually, those with the closest families are often the first to fall/ the Mistoffelees sang. /They are so coddled they hardly know where to start standing up for themselves. Maybe it’s worked out to your advantage to have both your parents dead/

“The source behind that name.  The danger that lurks within the third generation of the New Moon,” Coricopat shook his head again.  “But if you’ll not have any of the offer, then don’t.  It just might do you good to have allies.”

“I haven’t needed them before,” Quaxo said quietly.

“Don’t delude yourself.  Everyone needs allies.”

“How much do you know about the third generation of that magic?” Quaxo asked. “Because you’re scared, of that name, aren’t you? Would you be an ally then or just a spy?”

“The magic and the magician are usually one and the same.  Except when it comes to the third generation.  There’s a distinct difference.  I would offer myself as ally to the magician, though not to the magic,” Coricopat answered honestly, his gaze flickering over the other’s features.

Quaxo blinked once, even the Mistoffelees stopping for a moment. “What would you offer then? Besides the title of ally?”

“What more do you want me to offer?  Ally, someone to discuss magic with, someone to help train what you’ll allow to be trained.  Perhaps even friendship if it came to that, but one can’t promise that without knowing the other cat.”

“I’ll consider it,” Quaxo repeated, but this time his voice was much more open as if he really was thinking about the offer.

The empath offered him the faintest of smiles, “Well, do let us know.   You did well tonight.”  Something occurred to him and he frowned again, “Though I must ask what you were thinking risking Cassandra in such a way.”

Quaxo paused. “The spell… it wasn’t a transportation spell, it was a trading spell. To get something back you need to leave something in its place, send something back. Only, it’s cheating, because you don’t send the other thing all the way there, just a little ways. So you get both things by partially trading one.”

That garnered a long blink, “So, let me see if I understand here.  Your entire training is from books and you managed to pull off a trading spell with a shortened exchange?”  He could feel his apprehension increasing the more he thought about that.

“Yeah?” Quaxo offered. “Is that so abnormal?”

/Yes/ the magic replied, rolling its eyes.

“It’s….impressive.  More than I would expect.  I didn’t realize there was a book that would teach that sort of control, or that sort of spell.”

Quaxo tilted his head, the tip of his tail twitching again. “I don’t know if there was a book that taught that. I just knew it.”

“Innate knowledge, that’s also rather impressive,” Coricopat murmured, his tail curling and uncurling.

“Glad you think so,” Quaxo murmured, watching his tail.

Ears twitching, the mottled tom glanced back toward the main clearing and considered whether to go impart his concerns to Tantomile, “You’ve a strength I don’t think I’ve ever seen before.  It’s rather astonishing, actually.”

“Really?” Quaxo asked.

/He’s flattering you because he’s scared/

“Really.  You’re highly powerful, and it’s something that I don’t encounter in this tribe.  Not-not for several years,” he hesitated, stumbling over the thought of his former best friend.

“Who else?” Quaxo tilted his head. “What happened several years ago then?”

The empath shook his head, “It’s not something to be discussed in the tribe.  Not within the junkyard.  The power’s gone now, it doesn’t matter.”

Arching a brow, Quaxo washed his ear again, not saying that just because a power was gone didn’t mean it didn’t matter. “If you say so.”

Coricopat’s ears lay back, “I do.  Well, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to come to Tantomile or me.”

“Thank you,” Quaxo said, still unsure how good the offer was, but relief and a surge of confused thankfulness going through him anyway.

The mottled tom smiled slightly at the sweep of emotion that washed over him, “Of course.  For the rest of tonight though, I believe I’m going to retire and see about some sleep.  You…may want to speak with Tugger about avoiding the use of that name again.”

“If he survives the conversation I’m sure he’ll never use that name again,” Quaxo drawled.

That finally garnered a laugh, “Well, I wish you luck with that particular conversation.”  He stifled a yawn, “Good night, morning, something, to you, Quaxo.  I shall see you later then?”

“I suppose so,” he said softly, watching the mottled tom leave. “Good night.”

Coricopat inclined his head, slipping away to locate his sister—far more alert once he was out of the magician’s sight.

Back in the clearing, Tantomile approached Tugger. “Can I help you?” he asked, looking over at her.

“That name, you called the magician,” she offered.

“Oh, that was something he came up with,” Tugger grinned. “Said he found it in a book when I was pestering him about performing at the ball, asking if he’d have a stage name. Such a big name for such a tiny little cat. It’s grand, isn’t it?”

Seeing Coricopat return, Tantomile nodded. “Quite,” she said, nodding at the Rum Tum Tugger before padding over to her twin.

Coricopat curled up on a pile of junk, shaking his head at his sister, “He’s New Moon.  As best as he can determine.  And the magic he used….he claims to have learned what he knows from books.  Except the transportation.  He says he just _knew_ how to do that.”  He sighed, “I offered him allies and training if he wanted them.”

Tantomile blinked rapidly. “He… Are we going to be watching him then?”

“We should.” The mottled tom’s gaze swept the clearing, “I think we are, yes.  At least until we know the answer to our questions.  He’s a nice enough cat I think, though I don’t know if I can say that conclusively considering how little I’ve spoken with him.”

She nodded, still trying to absorb the entire night. “Alright. We’ll see tomorrow then, in the morning?”

Her brother nodded, “For now, it’s best we go home I suppose.  I need sleep before dealing with anything further.”

Leaning over, she groomed behind his ear, smoothing down the fur on his shoulder. “Come on then. Let’s get you to bed.”

Tilting his head into the touch, Coricopat blinked his eyes slowly, “Hm?  Oh, yes, bed before sleep.  That’s a good plan.”  He nuzzled against her ears before rising and stretching.

o-o-o-o

Perched somewhere outside the junkyard, Macavity looked up and down the street, long, ungroomed tail lashing behind him as he waited for the ball to wind down enough for cats to start leaving.

Rumpleteazer and Mungojerrie wove their way out through one of the side exits of the Junkyard, Teazer hovering very slightly to check on the scratches across the torbie tom’s face.  They came to a stop a few paces away from Macavity’s perch.  Teazer tilted her head back, grinning slightly up at the red tabby, “Well, that coulda gone better, but it coulda gone worse too.”

“Coulda gone better,” Macavity huffed. “Would that be the part when that little magician magiced away that old bastard or when that… who was that? The feline slinky? Who in the name of Bast was that?”

“’Is name’s Alonzo.  ‘E’s Munkustrap’s second-in-command,” Teazer shook her head.  “E’s also th’ one who got numbskull ‘ere in your way.  Ain’t that right, Jerrie?”

The torbie tom shrugged slightly, “Well, no?”

Macavity just gave Jerrie a long look, and hummed. “I was wondering why you were runnin’ out in front of me when my claws were out. Because that tom? Somethin’ is wrong with him. That sorta a move should never have worked. I’m not even sure how his spine bent that way.”

Jerrie hesitated, “Well, wanted t’ make sure there wasn’ gonna be more trouble what with ‘em both down.  Mighta been more trouble than it was worth.”

Teazer shook her head, elbowing him, “Any’ow.  It coulda been better.  But y’ shook ‘em up, right?  That was sortta part a th’ plan, right?”

“Oh, it was a grand old show,” Macavity hummed, “Though it left me with more questions then these sorts of things tend to.”

“What sorts a questions?”  She hauled herself up a bit closer to him, “That cut in y’ side don’ look good, y’alright?”

Macavity chuckled, hopping down and catching her around the waist, pulling her down and closer. “Like what in the hell that second in command and that magician. My brother’s pissy fits I’m used to. I’m perfectly fine, love.”

Teazer nuzzled against his shoulder, “Well, what d’ya want t’ know ‘bout the Magician?  I mean, Alonzo’s pretty straightforward.  ‘Cept Jerrie ain’t figured ‘im out yet.”

“Teazer, y’ gonna be done harpin’ on that soon?”  Jerrie groaned.

“When those claw marks ‘eal I’ll think ‘bout it.”

“So what’s there to figure out about that Lonzo?” Macavity asked, laughing down and smoothing a paw over Teazer’s ear. “What’s got Jerrie all confused like?”

She laughed at him, “Well, y’ remember that slinky move?  Well, b’tween that an’ that real pretty contrast in ‘is coat…Jerrie’s got a bit of an inklin’ for ‘im.  Just decided it weren’t a good plan t’ actually come out an’ say it.  So ‘e moons over ‘im.  Don’t y’, Jer?”

“Y’ off y’ rocker, Tea,” he answered.

Macavity laughed. “That don’t surprise me much, actually. Now then, what do you know about that little magician?”

Jerrie breathed a soft sigh of relief that the topic was off of him, “Is name’s Quaxo.  ‘E’s Bustopher Jones’ nephew.  Tugger’s a good friend a ‘is.  Ain’t really much else off th’ top a my ‘ead, ‘e keeps to ‘imself a  mostly.”

“No other friends?” Macavity asked. “Anycat who can talk about that magic he has?” he asked, ignoring the way that his stomach curled, magic whisking through it, curling in anger before dissipating.

Teazer glanced up at him, “Well, ‘e’s sortta close t’ Munkustrap.  There’s ‘is cousin, Victoria, Tumblebrutus an’ Pouncival are friends too.”

“Did y’ see th’ looks th’ mystics were givin’ ‘im?”  Jerrie asked.  “I’ll bet y’ they’d know somethin’.”

“The mystics?” Macavity huffed. “Not that damn Tantomile and Coricopat pair. See if you can get information from them about his magic, because I need to know what he’s doin’. What his powers are and what type he is,” Macavity said, glancing at Jerrie. “How close are you?”

Jerrie shrugged slightly, “We’re, well, I’d call us friends.  I didn’ know ‘e could do that, though.  Didn’ ever know what ‘is moon was.”

Teazer smiled, “We’ll see what we c’n find.”

“Good,” Macavity said with a nod, leaning down to clean Teazer’s ear with a smirk. “Find anythin’ you can on him. Somethin’ is wrong and I need to understand what’s goin’ on in that Yard.”

Her ear twitched and she tilted her head toward him a bit more, “You gonna let us in on what y’ think’s wrong, or’re we goin’ in blind?”

“I don’t know yet,” he lied. “But there was somethin’ with that magic that worries me. I need to know more about it before I can make any sort of a move.”

“Alright, we’ll keep y’ posted.”  She glanced at Jerrie, “Y’alright headin’ back t’ th’ Grove y’self t’night?”

“Unless th’ boss needs me f’ anythin’, I c’n get m’self home jus’ fine, Tea.  I ain’t a kit.”

“Sure you ain’t,” Macavity laughed. “If you can get yourself back then,” he purred, pulling Teazer an inch closer, tilting his head into her fur. “Then g’night to you.”

Jerrie shook his head, “Night t’ you two too.”  He slipped away into the shadows.

Teazer waited until he was out of sight before turning around in Macavity’s arms and twining her paws in his fur, “So, I ain’t gonna need t’ go back t’ the Grove t’night then.”

“No, I think not,” Macavity purred, kissing her deeply. “If that’s alright with you, of course,” he added, pulling back and smirking.

She smirked right back, leaning up and nipping at his lips before pressing against him.  Drawing back, she traced a paw down his chest, “More than alright.”

o-o-o-o

After a sleepless night, Quaxo rose, meandering from where he’d spent the night in Munkustrap’s den toward a small clearing in the junkyard, where the sunlight could filter in and there was an old cushion that made a good napping place.

Jellicle Moon or not, the Mistoffelees had pestered him throughout the night, critiquing the spells he’d used that night. Bright sunlight soothed the demon away, allowing him to finally fall into a deep sleep that was restful, since all that magic and the tension of performing in front of the tribe had exhausted him.

Coricopat rose late the next day, stretching and feeling moderately refreshed.  He slipped out of the den he and his sister shared, pausing when he finally saw her, “Tant?  I was considering locating Quaxo, would you like to join me?”

Pausing from where she’d been grooming her tail, she nodded, rising and stretching her spine out, paws in front of her.  “Certainly, I’d join you,” she replied. “It might be best for the moment if neither of us was alone with him until we know at least a little bit more.”

Her brother sighed, his ears flickering, but he nodded and started off toward where he’d spoken to Quaxo the night before.  He hoped it would be a reasonable place to start looking for the magician.

Since Quaxo had been on the way to that clearing the night before, it was a good place, and shortly Tantomile stopped her brother, holding a paw up and pointing to where the small tuxedo lay, tail curled around his nose with the sunlight flittering down to him.  Coricopat hesitated, considering the smaller tom and the patch of sunlight, “It’s rather early for him to be asleep again.”

“It is,” she agreed. “Unless he didn’t sleep.”

“Which I think is far more concerning than I want to consider right now,” her brother answered. “Should we wake him?”

“If you want to talk to him,” she replied, sitting with her tail lashing out behind her. “But I’m not.”

Coricopat considered, trying not to sound as nervous as he was, “I’m wondering if we shouldn’t see what more we can find out about him before we risk waking him from sleep as deep as that looks…”

She gave him a long look. “Who would we ask? Munkustrap? What would or could he tell us. He’s protective of that magician, and Victoria is his first cousin. Those are the only two who might know something. Tugger has no clue what the magic really is. So, who are we talking to?”

He grimaced, looking back toward where the small magician was curled up, “Well, when you put it like that, I suppose we really don’t have options.”  Coricopat steeled himself, “Alright, I’ll see about waking him up then…”

“What’s bothering you so much?” Tantomile asked, tail swishing in the dirt behind her again. “I’m sure, if you’re worried about him, he’ll be able to sleep again soon enough. Or would you really rather I did it?”

“I’m less worried about him and more worried about a startled magician whose powers we don’t know,” Coricopat responded as he started across the clearing.

“Why do you think you’re waking him up?” Tantomile asked.

“And oh, how much I love you too, dear sister,” he murmured, finally reaching Quaxo’s side.  He hesitated before reaching over and gently shaking his shoulder, poised to bolt, “Quaxo?”

Quaxo snapped awake, suddenly going tense all over but not moving for a long moment as he tried to process where he was and who else was there. Turning slowly, he blinked up at Coricopat, slowly starting to relax.   The mystic offered him a bit of a smile, “Sorry to startle you.  How are you today?”

“Fine,” he said, slowly pushing himself up, tail curling around his paws. “How are you? Today?”

“Doing well.  Did you have a good night after we parted?”  He considered perching next to the other tom and decided that probably wasn’t the best idea without an invitation.

“Sure,” Quaxo lied, looking up at the sun and glad that that at least shut the demon up for the most part. “It was perfectly fine. Yours?”

Tantomile padded over but still remained away so that it didn’t look like they were ganging up on the smaller magician.   Coricopat rolled his shoulder slightly, “It was good.  A restful night, just exactly what was called for after the ball, you know?”

“Yeah,” Quaxo said, faking a smile. “Exactly what was called for. What can I do for you?”

“Just came to see how you were doing.  And, well, introduce my sister Tantomile.”

He glanced over as she came the rest of the way forward. “I know her. But it’s nice to be formally introduced as well,” he said, nodding to her.

“To you as well,” Tantomile replied. “You put on quite the show last night, Quaxo.”

“Did you think about my offer from last night at all?”  Coricopat asked after a moment.

“Somewhat,” Quaxo replied, rolling one shoulder. “Didn’t have a lot of time, you know? With it being night and sleeping and all.” Except he’d spent all night lying awake, listening to the protector breath in his sleep, since Munkustrap had offered him a place for the night, going over and over the offer. What it could gain him, and all the things the Mistoffelees pointed out it would lose him.

“Can you at least tell us more about what you can do?” Tantomile asked softly and he looked over at her.

Quaxo blinked. “How exactly do you mean?”

Coricopat sat down, speaking softly while giving Quaxo a higher position, “Well, we saw the lightning, and the show you put on last night, but we’re wondering what else you can do.  It’s, well it’s nothing we’ve seen before.”

The smaller cat frowned. “Nothing?” he asked. “After all, Jemima can do incantations…”

“But those take time.  You never spoke an incantation for Deuteronomy’s return,” Coricopat pointed out. “I mean you told me yourself you did an exchange spell.  One that didn’t require an incantation apparently.”

“Oh,” Quaxo said, suddenly regretting not using that incantation. “Right. I just, I mean, there’s plenty of other magic in the tribe.”

“Not like yours,” Tantomile said. “Please, we just want to understand.”

“No,” Quaxo said quietly. “You want to test me, to see whether or not you should be scared of me. I may not be an empath but I know what you’re doing.”

Coricopat drew a deep breath, “Alright, that’s partially true. Do we have a reason to be afraid?”

“Depends,” Quaxo replied, holding himself carefully still, even though his tail wanted to twitch. “Are you asking to try and catch me in another lie?”

“You’re a New Moon,” Tantomile said. “I’m sorry if it seems we’re prying, but that power you displayed was shocking, even if untrained. We’re not frightened of you, but we would like to understand what you could do. Think of all the good you might be able to do for the tribe—“

Her brother shot her a look, “ _If_ you wished to of course.  There are benefits in all of our magics, New Moon is just so very strong.  Any of the magics if untested, untrained, can be a danger and a concern.”

Taking a deep breath, Quaxo nodded. “I’ve read books on it, practiced a lot. Tricks and stuff, they’re easy. Illusions and the like. Lightning has been, um, more recent, and I never… tried a trade or half trade before. I can transport with no trouble, and have since I was a kit, but not other cats.”

“I’m still impressed.  That power’s astonishing,” Coricopat spoke honestly, glancing at his sister again.  “You’ve an amazing magic, and if the strength you showed last night is any indication, you’ve got promise.”

“Promise,” Quaxo echoed. “Thanks, I suppose.”

Tantomile just watched the magician, trying to judge his reactions.   Coricopat fell silent for a moment, “Well, I mean, of course.  Where have you found the books to study with?”

“The library,” he said quietly. “When I can’t sleep—” he started and paused, regretting saying those words already. “I go and read instead,” he finished.

“Does it happen often?”  the mottled tom asked after a moment. “Not being able to sleep I mean.”

He shrugged, trying to play it off. “Sometimes.”

Coricopat’s lips curled upward slightly, “I know how that goes.  The library’s a good retreat.”

The space between Quaxo’s brows creased, one ear flickering, “Yeah,” he said, hoping that this wasn’t just a way to try and get him to feel more comfortable.

“Would you mind showing us any of it?” Tantomile asked, tilting her head.

The mottled tom mimicked his sister’s movement, “Which branch of the library?”

Quaxo blinked at the pair of them. “The nearest one, and what would you want me to show you?” he asked, answering both their questions at the same time.

Coricopat glanced at his sister again, but nodded, “That branch has rather a good collection of old mystical texts.”

Tantomile glanced back at her brother, one ear flickering at him before turning back to the magician. “Well, I’d rather not see a switching spell again, and there was quite a manipulation of lights and lightning, as well as some more traditional magic tricks used at the ball. But what else can you do?”

Considering, Quaxo tilted his head. “Well, Tugger was right about card and dice tricks, but I don’t have either with me. I can also transport to places I know and recognize, but it’s much harder to do so with somecat else or somewhere I haven’t been.”

“Like?” Tantomile asked and nearly jumped out of her fur when a paw touched her back and she realized the tuxedo was no longer sitting in front of them. Whirling around she hissed at the grinning magician.

Coricopat startled back at that, his ears flattening, “Quite the trick.”

Quaxo smirked. “Thanks,” he said, returning to his former position with another brief flash of smoke. “That one took me a while.”

“From books?” Tantomile asked, tilting her head.

“No, from lots of trial and error,” Quaxo replied. “I get an idea in my head and then see if I can make it work. Sometimes I can and other times it really doesn’t work out.”

“What sort of things haven’t you been able to do?”  Coricopat asked, focusing on tilting his ears forward again.

“Fly,” he said quietly, sounding wistful. “I mean, I know it’s a silly idea if I could go places by transport but… I’d always wanted to be able to fly. I have a lot of trouble with actually, well, affecting people. Not that I try or anything, but I could never get Tugger’s fur to turn pink by magic, though I could start a fire near his tail. I can affect myself and the physical world but usually not other cats, unless I’m moving them, and even then it’s more about moving the world around them.”

Tantomile’s eyebrows went up.  Ear flickering, Coricopat spoke again, “So you affect the world around you, but not other cats.  Have you seen past lives?”

“No,” Quaxo replied, voice hollow for a moment before he shook his head. “Do you mean for other cats or myself? Doesn’t matter I guess, the answer is still no.”

Tantomile’s ears flickered, unsure if that was a lie or not, but something was wrong.   Her brother nodded very slightly, “I see. Well, perhaps that will change given time.”  He glanced toward Tantomile, “Perhaps we ought to let you get back to sleep, or at the very least be on our way.”

Snorting, Quaxo shrugged. “Sure. Wake me up and interrogate me and be on your way. Have a good day,” he added, already padding back to the cushion and moving around in a circle, considering the best spot to lie down.

Coricopat grimaced, but inclined his head and turned to leave, touching his sister’s shoulder as he passed her.   His sister gaped after him before following. “What in the name of the everlasting cat is wrong with you?” she hissed once they were away from the small clearing.

His ears tilted back and he offered her a long look, "What do you mean?"

She almost slapped him across the face with her claws out. "You realize that now he's going to be even more unlikely to talk to us, and you've terrified him and you're projecting!"

Coricopat flinched, taking a solid step away from her at the emotion that hit him when she restrained herself, "I didn't mean to, and I am not!"

"You are," she replied. "You're treating him like he's Macavity not a separate being with entirely different issues. Even when that kit started to open up to us you snarled something at him and he shut down again. He has friends in the tribe, he must be able to get along with other cats but you wouldn't know the way both your backs were up."

"I am n--" He stopped and actually considered what she had said, his ears tilting backwards.  "Oh Everlasting Cat I am. Damn it, I don't mean to.  I just...it's hard to encounter a strong magic like that and not rehash the concerns around Macavity."

"Especially if he's a New Moon then he'll potentially be worse than Macavity," she said under her breath and rolled her shoulders, straightening up. "But he might not be, and even then his magic works in other ways. You can't let the past cloud this future, and he needs support, not attacks. He'll get plenty of those from other cats."

Her brother drew a deep breath, smoothing his fur down, "What do you recommend I do, Tant?"

"I have no idea," she replied. "Try to make up for him, and show you can actually be the friend you offered."

"You mean find a way to open up?"

"Yes," she said, nodding.

"Oh this will go beautifully, I'm sure."  He sighed, "I'm going to take a walk and see if I can't sort some of this out in my head."

"Take a walk," she agreed. "Think about it. Eat something. And then go read, relax. Then approach him again," she added, washing one of his ears.

He tilted his head toward her, gently butting it against her chin, "Alright, I'll give that a try.  I'll likely not be back to the den until tonight."

She nodded. "Alright. I'm sure I'll be able to find something to entertain myself with." Offering her a faint smile, Coricopat slipped away down one of the lesser used paths.


	4. What Did You Do to Him?

Deuteronomy perched himself carefully on the same old tire, looking around and waiting for his middle son to appear. If the youngest never did, he would be perfectly happy with that, as he was supposed to be thankful to Tugger for convincing the magician to bring him back.

Bringing one paw up to groom his whiskers, he considered the clearing that the night before had been full of cats dancing and now stood empty under the summer sun.

Munkustrap made his way through the trails in the Junkyard, checking for disturbed entrances and other routes his brother may have used.  He paused as he rounded the last turn to the main clearing and saw his father.  Arguing with himself about the pros and cons of returning to patrol rather than actually greet the leader, the silver tabby finally determined that it would likely be better in the long run to get it out of the way then.  He stepped into the clearing and made his way over to the tire, "Good day, sir."

"Munkustrap," his father greeted, looking around to make sure no other cat was there. "And what do you call last night?"

He crossed his paws behind his back and tilted his head down slightly, keeping his ears in a neutral position and his tail still, "A less than desirable evening, especially considering the night upon which it occurred, sir."

"Less then desirable," Deuteronomy growled. "He managed to get in here and molest my person, dragging me away from the most important night of the year and you call it less then desirable?"

"You were returned to us unharmed and he left here wounded, as it was not a complete failure, yes I consider it less than desirable, Father,"  Munkustrap was careful to keep his tone quiet, subservient even.

"He was able to make a fool of the entire tribe!" Deuteronomy hissed. "Harm is not important, that is."

His son flinched, "Sir, if I may, the end result was his own foolishness made apparent, not that of the tribe."

"And how do you figure that?" his father growled.

"You're here and he was shown up in magic.  All he managed to do was rattle us a bit, the ball went on, as does life."

Deuteronomy scowled, slowly coming down from his seat on the tire. "You might want to reconsider how blasé you are about your brother's actions. Next time it is likely something could go wrong. And you should know the price of failure."

Munkustrap took a solid step backward, wincing as it sent pain through his bruises and cuts from the night before, "Which price is that, sir?"

"The fact that if you fail in your duty, you could very well be relieved of it, or at worst end up like your brother."

The silver tabby's ears flattened and his tail curled around his leg briefly, "I...Of course, sir.  I shall take every precaution to be sure that nothing goes wrong."

Deuteronomy nodded. "Good. Make sure that you do," and then he started making his way back toward the Vicarage, already tired of the junkyard so soon after the ball.

Munkustrap watched him go, trying to relax once Deuteronomy was out of sight, but finding it the next best thing to impossible to do.  He slunk over to the old car and perched himself on the lid of the trunk rather than touch the tire at all.

Not too long later, Bombalurina strode through the area, pausing as she spotted the protector. "Back here so soon?" she teased. "You know, it's another three hundred and sixy days or so before the next ball."

He looked up from where he'd been paying far more attention to his paws than anything else.  Focusing on tilting his ears forward and offering his a bit of a smile he shrugged, "This is still one of the best perches in the 'Yard."

"Sure it is," she drawled, shrugging her shoulders. "If you say so it must be true."

He rolled his eyes, though the tip of his tail twitched uncertainly at that, "But of course, didn't you know as protector the only cat I know less than is the leader?"

She snorted. "Honey, I think Quaxo knows more then you, and frankly I think you know even more then our dear leader."

He couldn't keep his ears from lowering at that.  Most days it was easy enough to ignore something like that, but having just finished his conversation with his father it was a shade to raw.  Even with that, he offered her another smile, "Oh I highly doubt I know more than he does.  I seem rather adept at letting Macavity walk in and walk out with him with nary an idea of where he had taken him."

"It's Macavity," Bomba shrugged. "Besides, the way Deme was reacting I'm pretty sure he was hanging around all night, since she's still in bed recovering from his magics. He's not that much of a physical threat anyway, is he?"

"Supposedly the issue is less the physical damage, which as long as you stay away from his claws you'll be fine, and far more the psychological warfare caused by his presence."

Bomba snorted again. "He's not well liked around here, is he?"

"Macavity?  Well, he's...no, he really rather isn't."  Munkustrap sighed, curling his tail around his paws, "He's violent, Blood Moon.  And banished.  I mean, all in all, it's not the most ideal of combinations."

"Blood moon," Bomba repeated. "You ever notice we don't really understand that magic all that well?"

"Do we truly understand any of the triad well?  Blood Moon just happens to be one of those three."

"But we haven't banished the Jellicle or New Moon magic," Bomba pointed out. "Not that we even know who they are though."

"There's a violence to the Blood Moon that is undesirable within a tribe, it causes a division and danger to those around it," Munkustrap replied, sounding as though he were reciting a lesson rather than arguing the point.

Bomba even rolled her eyes. "Sure, they say and apparently you listened. Anyway, just stopping by, I should let you get back to... brooding over your paws."

The silver tabby shook his head, "I was hardly brooding.  But, yes, I should be on my way for another patrol myself."

She watched him for another moment before shaking her head, slinking off to check on Demeter and her Blood moon magic induced migraine again.

o-o-o-o

There was another place, a place without real time or physical meaning, and while it wasn't dark it wasn't light. "We made a mistake," a female voice said. "We made a mistake a long time ago."

A deep male voice, dripping with sarcasm, responded, "No, us?  However could we have erred?"

There was a silence filled with annoyance. "It's getting worse," she said. "Whatever mistake we made it's getting worse."

"And whose brilliant idea was it to trap the demon in a mortal rather than banish it permanently, or kill it?" he replied.

"You're forgetting we couldn't," a higher, second male voice said. "We tried, remember?"

"We should never have trapped it in a tribe," the female voice murmured.

"Oh, that's right," the first male voice responded.  "We couldn't kill it, so we decided to off balance the world for all time instead."

"You're not helping," the younger male replied, snappish.

"For a while it worked," she pointed out. "The Jellicle magic balanced out the demon and when it got too much the Blood moon could slay it. But now the world can't decide whether it's part of the Jellicle magic or the demon's image."

"And it helps nothing that the Jellicles have lost their lore.  They ignore it, and hope that their myths are just that.  Their trio walks among them and they do not recognize it," the older male responded. “And without recognizing it they cannot open a way for us to come.”

"At least the other tribes have not lost their lore," the second male said. "But they remember what the Jellicles do not."

"The demon," the female voice started and paused. "We've waited too long to figure out a solution."

"There is no such thing as too long before finding a solution," came the first male's reply.  "We just have less time to solve the problem now."

The eye roll he got in reply was audible. "We have no time," the female said. "We waited far, far too long. Even if this new host is different."

"Then we do what work we can until we absolutely must interfere.  We will take what sliver of time we have remaining to us," he responded sharply.

"You would leave it that long?" the younger male asked, surprised.

"I would have us be ready to face the demon.  We are not now at that stage," the deeper voice responded simply.

"We should be," the female snarled.

"Well we aren't," he snapped.  "If we were we would have dealt with it by now!"

"The demon will remain in the tribe then?" the younger male asked. "We are gods and we cannot figure this out?"

"No.  We are gods and we _will_ figure this out.  We just have yet to figure it out,"  the older male answered.  "And it has to be before the world comes apart. When they have the power to call us, we will come, and we will have a solution.”

"We should have had centuries," the female sighed. "Where did we waste all that time?"

"In assuming that our original plan was less temporary than it apparently was," he answered quietly.

A silence fell. "So we must find a solution to the demon?"

"Yes," the female voice replied.

o-o-o-o

Pouncival came bounding into the small clearing where Quaxo was still sleeping with Tumble trailing behind.  "Pounce, he looks beat.  Maybe we should--"

"Nonsense."  Pounce scurried over, tapping Quaxo's shoulder, "Hey, Quaxo.  Come on, wake up, we want to talk."

Tumble shook his head and padded over quietly, "Pounce, really."

Quaxo snapped awake again, body tensing in the same way he had when the twins had woken up. Slowly, he relaxed again, looking up. "Um, hi guys."

Tumble offered him a sheepish smile, "Sorry about that.  Pounce decided we couldn't wait to talk."

"Of course we can't!"  Pounce responded, "I mean, how did you leave us out of that loop?"

"Oh," the tuxedo said softly. "Um... that loop. Magic loop?"

"Yeah, magic loop.  How did we not know about it?  At all."

"Well," he said, pushing himself up to his paws, curling his tail around them and one ear flickering. "It was a pretty tiny loop."

"So there was a loop?"

Tumble rolled his eyes, "Pounce, he's n-not obligated to tell us everything."

"It was a loop of Munkustrap and the cousin that lived with me," Quaxo said quietly, trying not to hunch his shoulders. "That was all. The protector knew."

Pounce frowned a bit, "Tugger knew something, didn't he?"

"Pounce!"  Tumble shook his head, "Quaxo, it's fine."

"Oh," Quaxo blinked. "Tugger did see a bit too. But... he ran into me one day! I never told him!"

"It's fine.  You don't owe us any explanation," Tumble assured.

"I think your brother disagrees," Quaxo said, tilting his head slightly.

Pounce's tail thrashed, "Well, it woulda been nice to know, y'know?  I mean, you're a good friend of mine."

The tip of his tail flickered. "I'm... sorry. It's just... not something I like to talk about. Or do. Or deal with. Ever."

His friend sighed, "Alright, I guess."

Quaxo looked between the two of them. "I mean, I never really wanted Tugger to decide it was something to declare in front of the tribe, and I'm still getting all sorts of grief about that."

Pouncival rolled his eyes, "Well, that's Tugger for you."

Tumble frowned, "Th-that's not quite fair, I don't think, Pounce.  Quaxo, it'll settle down eventually."

"Eventually," Quaxo repeated, nodding slightly.

Pounce sighed, "Well, it's alright.  I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that..."

"Done what?" Quaxo asked, tilting his head to one side.

"Come at you like that about it?  It was just weird seeing you do all that last night.  I mean, I kinda thought I woulda known beforehand."

"Oh," he managed. "I think a lot of cats were surprised. I never... I didn't really mean to keep things from you guys, I didn't."

Tumble offered him a faint smile, "I know.  It's okay. _Right_ , Pounce?"

His brother paused, but nodded, "Yeah, it's okay."

He offered them both a faint smile. "Thanks. I mean, is there anything you actually want to know?"

Pounce shrugged, "How long've you known you could do that stuff?"

Quaxo took a deep breath. "Since I can remember."

"Huh, cool?  I mean it's neat you were able to get Old Deuteronomy back."

Tumble had fallen silent again, but was listening, letting Pounce talk and ask questions.

"Yeah," Quaxo said quietly, and the magic curled in his head, though the sunlight kept it quiet.

Watching his friend closely, Tumble spoke softly, "Pounce?  Weren't you helping Mum today?"

His brother blinked at him, "Was I?"

Looking between them, Quaxo shrugged. "I wouldn't know, were you? Come on Pounce, you know you're bad at remembering these things."

Tumble nodded, "You were, so maybe go do that?"

Pounce rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah.  I'll catch you both later."

Watching him go, Quaxo looked back at Tumble. "He wasn't going to help his mom today was he?"

Tumble shook his head, "Nope."  He moved over and sat down next to Quaxo, "Just figured you could use a break from questions."

Quaxo offered him a faint smile. "I've been getting some of those lately. It's not so bad though, when it's Pounce."

Curling his tail up over his paws, Tumble nodded, "Still, he can sometimes get to asking and pushing.  Who else's been asking questions?"

"The twins," he said quietly, looking down at his paws.

His brows shot up at that, "The mystics?"

The tuxedo nodded again. "Yeah. They wanted to know more about the magic, about me. Suddenly the entire tribe is watching me and I'm used to being ignored."

"It, it should die down and go back to normal eventually.  Maybe s-sooner than later."

"I hope so," he said, looking over. "How are you? With things, and the ball?"

"I'm doing alright.  I mean, it was the ball.  Things are...th-things are good."

"Good," Quaxo said, giving him a long look. "You sure though?"

Tumble shrugged, "Course I-I'm sure.  I mean, wh-what wouldn't be?"

Quaxo shrugged. "Bast if I'd know. Just wanted to make sure."

 "And y-you?  You're doing good?"

"As I can be," Quaxo replied and stopped, fur along his back suddenly going up and he hissed as Tugger came rambling around the corner.

Tumble stilled at the sight of the large leopard-print tom, his tail twitching up into his lap as he did his best to make himself unnoticed. Quaxo glanced over. "You're doing fine?" he asked, before stalking toward Tugger.

"C-course I a-am," Tumble murmured, gaze still fixed on Tugger.

"Hey, Magical Mr--"!" Tugger greeted brightly and noticed that the smaller cat's back was up and he was hissing.

"Don't use that name!" Quaxo hissed.

"Okay?" Tugger offered, taking a half step back, ruffling his mane.

"You son of a whoring queen," Quaxo snarled. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"About what?" Tugger asked, innocence rolling off him as he adjusted his mane.

"About calling me out in front of the tribe! About using that name!"

"Hey," Tugger protested. "That name was your idea. Besides, it was a great stage name, remember? We'd talked about it?"

"It was a joke!" Quaxo protested, throwing his arms out.

Glancing back at Tumble, Tugger pursed his mouth and considered, ruffling his mane again. "Well, maybe. But what in Bast's name was gotten you in such a tizzy over it? Putting you on the spot I get, but the name? Wasn't it out of a book? Who would care?"

"Apparently a lot of people because I haven't stopped getting questions about it."

"Really?" Tugger asked, taken aback. "Why?"

"He was..." Quaxo hesitated, fur finally starting to go down. "A historical figure. A _bad_ one and now cats want to know why I thought it was funny, forgetting the fact you're the one who said it in the first place."

"You answered to it," Tugger shrugged, unruffled.

Rolling his eyes, Quaxo sat primly, paws in front of his chest and tail coming around to curl over them. "I still hate you."

"That's why I love you, dear," Tugger said, blowing a kiss at him and he rolled his eyes.

"You're so contrary."

"I'm a curious cat," Tugger reminded and Quaxo rolled his eyes again.

Tumblebrutus watched the exchange, eyes wide, and seriously considered the merits of retreating quickly and leaving them to their own devices.  He rose, with every intention of exiting the clearing, though he paused to glance at Quaxo again.

Quaxo glanced back at him, offering a smile and a head tilt to show everything was fine, but his movement caused Tugger to notice him. "Hey! Tumbes. Why not come over?"

Tumble's ears lay back at that and his tail thrashed for a moment before coiling around his leg, "Wh-what did you c-call me?"

Even Quaxo was giving him a wide eyed look at the nickname but he just shrugged. "Tumbes? Shorted name with a s added to it for the fun of it?"

"I-it's not that f-far off f-from 'tombs' a-and f-frankly I take issue w-with th-that."  Tumble mentally ran through a litany of curses at how severe his stammer had gotten in the space of moments.

Both of the other toms blinked. "It's a totally different vowel sound," Quaxo offered.

"Well Tumble is just so common place," Tugger said. "Everycat calls you that."

His ears lowered further, his tail coiling tighter as he focused on reining in his stutter a bit, "S-so what gives you the r-right to call m-me something else?"

Tugger lifted his shoulders. "Cause I'm me?"

"R-right," Tumble murmured.  "C-curious cat and a-all."

Tugger beamed. "Glad you caught on. Enjoy my number did you?"

"I've g-got n-no idea what y-you're talking about," Tumble responded quickly, shaking his tail off of his leg finally.

"I was asking," Tugger said, tilting his head and Quaxo laid down, resting his chin on his folded paws, trying not to doze off. "Did you like my number last night? You know? Ball?"

"R-right.  It was...unique."

"Unique," Tugger repeated back to him and one of Quaxo's ears flickered. "Just unique?"

"W-well that's not a b-bad thing," Tumble replied.

"I would most sincerely hope not," Tugger replied, hooking his paws in his small belt. "Anything else?"

"D-does there have t-to be more?  It was...g-good?  Th-though dropping B-Bomba w-wasn't all that nice of y-you."

Tugger shrugged. "She's Bombs. We're not really about nice, you know?" he asked, not quite leering but close.

Tumble's ears flickered and he resisted the urge to take a step back, "Y-yeah, I think a-a lot of c-cats have n-noticed."

Quaxo moved from where he was sitting to whack Tugger's leg. "Stop it."

Tumble startled at that, finally taking a step back, "I-I should g-go."

"What?" Tugger protested to both of them.

"Stop pretending your sleeping with Bomba," Quaxo said. "The joke is boring to everycat who understands it and mean to everycat else."

"It's not--" Tugger started and stopped.

Blinking at both of them, the brown and white tom let his ears tilt forward slightly, "N-not what?  A j-joke?  Or is Qu-Quaxo right?"

"I was going to say it's not like that," Tugger huffed.

"Yes it is," Quaxo replied, eyes still closed like he was sleeping again. "The only cat it never bothered was Alonzo and that's because he was in a relationship with her while you two were flirting up and down the yard because he's _Lonzo_ and they figured out they were better off not together then together pretty fast."

Tumble blinked rapidly, "Then wh-why...?"

"Why?" Tugger asked and got it. "Oh. Because we can?"

"But...I-I mean, what's th-the point?"

"It's fun?" Tugger offered, ear flickering in confusion.

"It's fun for them," Quaxo amended.

"Ah," Tumble finally nodded, "I s-see."

Tugger tilted his head. "Really?"

"Sort of?  I-I mean I s-still don't get why you'd call it fun, but if it's f-fun for you I suppose I can see you s-sticking to it."

"Well, it keeps cats guessing, right?"

"Also means no cat asks about who he's with," Quaxo added and Tugger gave him a long look.

"A-and th-that m-matters?" Tumble asked in confusion.

"Well," Tugger started and shrugged. "Means cats don't bother me and Cettie can't you know, hope too much. Keeps the fankittens a bit more on the down low, you know?"

"Y-you obviously h-haven't talked t-to Cettie m-much, have you?"  Tumble asked, shaking his head.

"As little as possible," Tugger replied. "Adoring fans are great... but not that great."

"Well, y-you aren't exactly k-keeping her hopes d-down."

Tugger sighed. "Even with the whole Bombs thing?"

"Ever notice how most of your nicknames sound violent or morose?" Quaxo asked sleepily.

"Yeah, even with th-the Bomba thing," Tumble answered.

Tugger sighed, hooking his paws in his belt again. "Only so much one can do with all the awesome greatness that is me then."

Tumble shook his head, "D-does nothing phase you?"

"What would?" Tugger asked.

"I-I don't know.  I-I'm kind of curious now."

"Oh please," Tugger shook his head. "I mean, seriously, what would phase me? You think you could figure something out, Tumbes?"

Tumble's ears lay back again, "Not sure I want to."

"You just said you were curious like," Tugger smirked. "And I'm a curious cat myself."

"W-well, then maybe you should figure I out and let me know wh-when you do.  I-I'll bet it's a real small thing y-you haven't even thought of yet."

Quaxo snorted and Tugger just stared at him for a long moment. "Well, Tumbes, I can safely say I haven't thought of it yet, but I'm getting an inkling."

Tumble didn't look entirely impressed, "D-do I want to ask?"

"Not yet," Tugger grinned as Quaxo looked up enough to be obviously awake.

Shooting Quaxo a nervous look, the patched tom nodded, "O-okay then.  I-I really ought t-to be g-going.  See if M-Mum needs anything."

"Sure," Tugger said with a nod, grinning broadly.

He glanced at Quaxo again, "G-good to t-talk to you, Quaxo."  With a final look in Tugger's direction, Tumblebrutus beat a hasty retreat.

The two friends paused. "Why did you do that to him?" Quaxo sighed and Tugger just grinned.


End file.
